


With Heavy Heart

by DesertScribe



Category: Ancient Egyptian Religion
Genre: (for the human), Gen, The Feather of Truth, The Weighing of the Heart, Unhappy Ending, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/pseuds/DesertScribe
Summary: For the souls who arrive in the Hall of Ma'at to be judged, it's an event which will determine how they spend the rest of eternity.  For Anubis and his fellow gods, it's just another day at work.





	With Heavy Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/gifts).



The shade of the latest dead human who had come seeking entrance into the afterlife knew how to properly greet his deities, Anubis would give him that. Many supplicants faltered and froze and forgot the required stages of protocol upon coming face to face with forces so much greater than themselves, and many others fell to the dangers lurking in the early stages of the Duat before they even reached the Hall of Ma'at or were denied the funerary rites which would have allowed them to begin their journey at all, but this one stood tall and let the correct form of address for each of the dozens of watchers roll off his tongue as if he had been practicing since as soon as he could talk, until only the final and most important test remained.

"Wait here," Anubis told the dead man. Then the jackal-headed god took the dead man's heart (they were always so surprised by how much and how little it hurt at the same time), knelt down next to the golden scale which formed the centerpiece of the Hall, and set the heart upon it.

The other divine judges up in their comfortable seats in the observation gallery whispered bets on the outcome to each other.

Anubis followed their commentary with one keen ear but did not participate in it. He had handled more than enough hearts to recognize the feel of those whose heart was buoyed by the lightness of a life well lived and those whose heart was packed solid with misdeeds, those who would pass this test and those who would not, so he already knew the outcome. He kept that knowledge to himself, though, and allowed the scales and the Feather of Truth to speak for themselves, which they did with speed and finality.

"There must be some mistake," wailed the dead man as he watched the balance of judgement tip decidedly _not_ in his favor.

"The scales do not make mistakes, nor does the Feather, nor do I," Anubis said. He kept his voice dispassionate, because he was meant to be an impartial witness to these proceedings, but he gave a small regretful shake of his head to show that there was nothing personal in his pronouncement.

"But I did everything right," the shade insisted, voice dropping to a panicked whisper now as he clutched his handful of useless trinkets against the part of his chest where his heart had resided until its removal for weighing. Humans were such strange creatures to be aware of the existence Ma'at and the use of her great Feather of Truth and yet still believe that mortal-made amulets and incantations could force said feather to go against the very nature of its divine purpose and lie about the wickedness it found weighing down the organ which should have been pure and light.

"Clearly, you did not," Anubis said. He removed the dead man's heart from the scales and cupped gently it in his hands.

Even then, the dead man seemed to think there might be some last minute reprieve, that Anubis might take pity on him and spare him from his deserved fate. He was to be disappointed. His journey through the Duat was at an end without reaching his desired destination, because Anubis could feel pity but could not compromise his sacred duty by acting on it. Anubis enjoyed seeing humans earning their way into Sekhet-Aaru, but this human had not done so and sought to enter by trickery instead. The human should have known better; he should have lived better. Now, it was too late.

With a weary sigh, Anubis, still kneeling at his place by the scale, extended the heart in his hands, not to present it to his ruler, Orisis, as he would have done with the heart of one who was worthy, nor to return it to the shade of the human, who had proved he did not deserve it, but to a third party who had been waiting for just such an occasion.

Ammit, who had been lounging idly on her side on the floor and following the events in the Hall with one slit-pupiled eye, recognized her cue and, without needing any further prompting, rolled to her feet and waddled forward with crocodilian jaws gaping wide to receive her due. She had long ago grown fat from gorging on the hearts of the unworthy, but she was always eager for more, so at least _somebody_ would get some enjoyment from this failure. With practiced ease, Ammit snatched the heart from Anubis's hands and bolted it down in a single swallow.

At the destruction of his heart, the shade of the dead man gave one final wail as the pieces of his soul separated for the final time and scattered away from the Hall of Ma'at, back into the middle darkness of the Duat from whence he had most recently come and now would wander forever, never to find rest.

Ammit gave Anubis's fingers a curious sniff in hopes of finding yet another treat to be immediately forthcoming and, upon finding nothing more to eat, licked them once with a large feline tongue and then lumbered back to her preferred napping spot, where she stretched, yawned, and then unceremoniously sprawled on the floor, halfway between lying on her back and on her side, with one hippopotamus leg sticking up in the air and her short tail sticking out behind her.

A low susurrus of conversation punctuated by the occasional laugh or mock groan drifted down from the observation gallery as the winners of the wagers collected from the losers.

Thoth clacked his beak in disapproval as he noted down the outcome of the trial in his official records, though whether it was over the heaviness of the deceased's heart, or Ammit's less than divine comportment, or the petty betting of his fellow gods and goddesses, or all of the above was unknown.

Anubis arose, wiped his hands dry on his shendyt, and glowered at Thoth, saying, "You're supposed to be the first and best teacher to the humans. Can't you go teach them better, so that fewer of them end up like _this_?" He gestured vaguely between Ammit's stomach and the various directions the pieces of soul had fled.

"I can only teach, and even then only to willing students. I can't change human nature any more than you can," Thoth said with a shrug. "Maybe the next one will be better?"

"We can only hope," Anubis said, and stalked off to escort the next dead human to its judgement, while behind him Ammit kicked her feet in her sleep.


End file.
